Shadow's Night
by Jedi-2B
Summary: A bit of Halloween silliness for ObiWan. One post vignette.


**Title - Shadow's Night  
Genre - Humor  
Characters - Obi-Wan Kenobi**

**Disclaimer - Mr. Lucas would never acknowledge drivel like this, even though he owns all.**

Author's Note --- For the Halloween Challenge at tf.n, to write a 1000-word vignette with the worst opening sentence you can come up with.

Many thanks to GreatOne for her help with this, especially the awful first sentence.

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**Shadow's Night**

Out of the eremitic hermitage, leaden caliginous chimney smoke rose like a galaxy-weary wraith, and inside the arenose abode, so did the austere cottage's expatriated anchorite.

It was Shadow's Night on Tatooine, and Obi-Wan Kenobi was planning on attending the local festivities in Anchorhead. Not because he relished disguising himself in a ridiculous costume -- though it was a good way to blend in -- but because he fervently hoped that this year Beru Lars would bring her young charge.

It had been a full season since Obi-Wan had even caught a glimpse of Luke Skywalker. Owen kept a tight rein on the boy, not letting the six-year-old anywhere near the Jedi's home. But this was Luke's first year in school; he would want to join the other youngsters at the town's annual carnival. Surely Owen, cantankerous though he was becoming, would allow the boy some time to enjoy life with his friends.

Now, what to dress up as. A Tusken Raider? No, he'd heard tales of someone getting blasted one year after choosing that particular costume. A Jawa? He was too tall. A Twi'lek? Fashioning lekkus sounded like too much trouble. Well, he was known around the area as a crazy old wizard. Why not go with the obvious?

Obi-Wan set to work, dragging out every article of clothing from his dusty old trunk and spreading them out on his bed. He frowned as he realized that his meager wardrobe did nothing to negate the image of being crazy, old, or a wizard. And he wasn't even that old yet! The Jedi Order definitely should have enlisted the services of a good fashion designer somewhere along the line.

After careful deliberation, Obi-Wan selected baggy white pantaloons -- he couldn't even remember where he'd acquired _those_ -- a bright green frilly tunic -- he didn't _want _to remember where that came from -- and a wide yellow sash to tie it all together. No, it still needed something else … A quick look around the small room, and his eyes fell on the faded checkered tablecloth adorning his table. Ahh, what better way to look truly absurd than to don a red plaid cape.

One peek in the clouded mirror above the sink reminded Obi-Wan that more than just his clothes would have to be changed to achieve a satisfactory disguise. He smoothed one hand over his neatly trimmed beard. He knew he'd been a tad vain in keeping the growth of whiskers so carefully groomed. It was also his most recognizable feature. A feature which would easily grow back, he thought, as he searched for a razor.

A bleaching agent turned the rest of Obi-Wan's russet hair a glaring shade of yellowish white. He hadn't felt bold enough to give himself a Master Windu-style head shave. Globs of lard served as hair gel, and the Jedi spent close to a half hour fashioning his hair into outlandish spikes. He only hoped his odorous hairdo wouldn't attract sand fleas.

Glancing out his hut's small window, Obi-Wan noticed that first sundown was already fast approaching. Anchorhead's carnival would soon be in full swing. He'd better hurry -- no doubt Luke wouldn't be allowed to stay too late. Pulling on the outlandish costume he'd assembled, Obi-Wan allowed himself a silly grin at his own expense. It was a good thing Master Yoda would never hear of this. Though come to think of it, Obi-Wan remembered one Senate costume party that the old master had been invited to. He didn't think the Coruscanti socialites in attendance ever figured out who the little furry pink clown was.

As he loped across the desert on his faithful eopie, Obi-Wan anticipated how much fun he would allow himself to have this evening. Anakin -- even the name brought a pang of sorrow -- Anakin had often accused his master of being a stuffy old prude. Obi-Wan hoped that Anakin's son would have a more lively opinion of 'Old Ben' before the evening was over. He smiled to himself as he thought of how he would do magic tricks for Luke and his friends. He'd astound them with feats of prestidigitation. He'd make them laugh at his array of comical acrobatics. Beru would probably recognize him, even with the disguise, but he didn't think she'd interfere. Owen -- if he came at all -- would spend the evening in the local cantina, discussing the always poor harvest with the other moisture farmers.

Obi-Wan wondered what little Luke would come dressed as. A star pilot, perhaps? From behind the crown of a sand dune he'd eavesdropped on the boy at play one afternoon the previous year. Luke had been racing around the homestead, arms outstretched, making noises like a ship engine that Obi-Wan had no trouble hearing even from his hiding place. The youngster couldn't help but have the makings of an exceptional pilot. It was in his blood.

As he neared the outskirts of Anchorhead, Obi-Wan could see colorful banners fluttering from tall posts lining the main street. Booths were scattered here and there, and trestle tables were clustered under an expansive tent. Few people were milling about, however. Was he early after all? He thought he remembered the Shadow's Night party starting by second sundown last year.

Obi-Wan began to have a bad feeling when he failed to see anyone in anything that even remotely resembled a costume. As he tied the eopie to a post near the cantina, he couldn't avoid hearing snickers coming from two teenaged boys lounging against the sand-blasted building.

"Hey, old man, what's with the weird get-up?" 

Obi-Wan wasn't sure he wanted to hear the answer, but he asked anyway. "Shouldn't the carnival be starting soon?"

Both boys guffawed loudly. "Man, get yourself a calendar," one of them snickered. "Shadow's Night was last night!"

Well, Obi-Wan mused as he led his mount away from the fading sounds of laughter, at least no one recognized him. And there was always next year.


End file.
